


The Art of Misdirection

by Amuly



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cigarettes, Dirty Talk, Licking, M/M, Playful Sex, Rimming, Smoking, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-12
Updated: 2011-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-04 00:09:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/387483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amuly/pseuds/Amuly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the <a href="http://1stclass-kink.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://1stclass-kink.livejournal.com/"><b>1stclass_kink</b></a>  prompt: <a href="http://1stclass-kink.livejournal.com/806.html?thread=16422#t16422">Erik discovering the best way to surprise a telepath is to think about  what he's going to do AFTER he's licked Charles out, and let the licking  out part slip his mind. ;)</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Misdirection

  
 

 

Charles laughed as Erik began to slide his tongue down his stomach, licking and lapping and generally covering Charles with as much saliva as he possibly could. Squirming beneath the wet little muscle, Charles pushed his hand in Erik's hair and playfully shoved his head down. “Why don't you get to the main event?”

Erik's eyebrows were raised as he looked up at Charles, dipping his tongue in Charles' navel before replying. Charles switched and squirmed again at the minor intrusion. “I thought _you_ were supposed to be teaching _me_ patience, rather than the other way around?” 

Head lolling lazily to the side as he stared down at Erik, Charles' lips twitched with mirth. “Maybe when it comes to serious matters, but for this, I believe I'm allowed to lack a degree of fortitude of character.”

Erik's frown was mocking as he bit down gently on the jut of Charles' hipbone. “Oh, but Charles: I consider this to be the _most_ serious of matters.”

“Then,” Charles chided, lifting his foot to poke at Erik's naked arse. Erik grinned and rolled away from the jab. “Why don't you bring your full attention to this most serious of matters?”

In the forefront of Charles' mind he felt Erik's voice, shouting and prodding at him to listen. Opening his mind just a bit, Charles' let that insistent voice in. _You have my entire focus right here. In fact,_ Erik started to move down Charles' body further, not breaking eye contact as he shouted his thoughts, _I'm focusing on_ exactly _what I'm going to do to you._

Charles' breath quickened, his chest rising and falling so much that he had to shift up onto his elbows so he could continue to watch Erik's progress down his body. Erik's tongue was back, laving a line down Charles hip, around his pubic hair and to the inside of his thigh. Charles' leg twitched violently when Erik bit down, knocking Erik in the side of the head. Both men laughed as Erik rubbed at the spot.  _You know I'm going to put my mouth on you next_ . 

Charles' good humor immediately vanished and was replaced with arousal as Erik started to move over him, hovering over Charles' straining erection as he looked up. Without breaking eye contact, Erik slowly lowered his head and licked a bead of precome off the tip of Charles' erection. Charles bucked, reaching his hand down before Erik batted it away.  _After I do this_ , Erik lowered his mouth over Charles, sucking him into his mouth,  _I'm going to prepare you with my fingers_ .

Personally Charles could barely find it in himself to care about what Erik was doing next – all he wanted to focus on was what Erik was doing  _now_ . And what he was doing  _now_ was... Charles moaned, thrusting up into Erik's mouth as his hands scrambled around to find something to do. Finally Charles settled his hands on his own chest, pinching at his nipples as Erik pulled back, tonguing the head of his erection before sliding back down. The groan that escaped Charles' chest was shuddering and broken as Erik sucked hard around him.

_After I prepare you with my fingers, I'm going to fuck you so hard that you'll be wishing for those proper little university boys again, just to give your tired arse a rest_ . 

“All... talk...” Charles managed to pant. Then he couldn't even speak anymore, because Erik was bobbing up and down over Charles and sucking so hard on him it was like Erik was mining for ore and Charles' penis was a rich, untapped vein. Charles whimpered and tossed his head to the side. He wasn't sure if that had been Erik's or his thought, but the word _untapped_ had trigged a host of new images cascading through his mind: Erik fucking him from behind, gripping Charles neck hard and shoving his face down into the mattress until all Charles could feel, could be aware of in the world was Erik's erection pounding into him; Erik towering over him as Charles looked up at him from flat on his back, his legs held straight up in Erik's vice-like grip as he fucked into him with broad, sure strokes; Charles riding Erik, bracing one hand on Erik's chest and the other on his hip as Erik looked up at him, watching, glint of approval in his green eyes.

Charles' mind was filled with Erik's images – memories or perfectly realistic fictions, Charles couldn't even be sure at the moment – and his body was signing Erik's praises, reveling in the pleasure he was bestowing onto Charles. Charles' mind – what little was left of it – was reduced to a mindless chant of _Erik, Erik, fuck, yes, Erik, please, Erik_.

In answer, Erik's mind was a kaleidoscope of filthy images, a solarium lit by the pornographic. _Going to fuck you, Charles. Going to get you wet and filthy with me. Going to have you begging as I'm inside you, wanting more, unable to even take it, me filling you up, spreading you so wide_ -

When Erik's mouth moved away from him, Charles stifled a gasp. He kept his hands in place, teasing and twisting at his nipples, because he knew what was coming next. First Erik's fingers would enter him, covered in slick. They'd stretch him wide open before-

“ _Fuck!_ ” Charles' body jerked a good foot off the bed before Erik's hands were on him, holding him in place. Erik's mouth... it was still there, it had just moved... _south_.

Charles' entire body spasmed again, though less violently than the first time, as Erik's tongue returned. He was licking... _there_. That secret place, that place that was growing used to being filled by Erik's long fingers and thick arousal, but never- “Erik, Erik, my friend, you-”

Charles' body _shuddered_ as Erik licked a long line from the bottom of his hole to the top, before his tongue returned right to the center, prodding and poking at the opening. Charles' right hand slipped on his nipple, fingernails slicing at the iron-hard nub and almost drawing blood. Charles had to put a stop to this. It was... _So good, Charles: Your taste is rich and heavy on my tongue. Like Earl Grey in the morning._

It had to be unsanitary. It just _had_ to. As good as it felt – and oh, the amount of precome dripping down Charles' shaft to nest in his pubic hair was a good indication of how impossibly incredible it felt – it couldn't be good. They shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't be letting Erik do this.

_Charles._ Erik's voice was sharp and clear in his mind, even as his tongue continued to lap and taste at Charles' hole.  _Shut up and enjoy this. I know I am_ . 

At those words Charles felt a surge of arousal from his mind, directed to him from Erik. Cracking his eyes open, Charles looked down his own body and saw – inconceivably – that Erik was fisting himself as he lapped at Charles. He was erect, aroused,  _leaking_ for Charles as Erik prepared to eat him out.

Head falling back onto the sheets, Charles let his entire body go limp in acquiescence. That was when Erik slid his tongue inside. 

Through the cool spikes of pleasure rolling through his system, Charles found his mind focusing on the most ridiculous things – like where to put his hands. Charles just couldn't figure out what to do with them. His head was lolled to the side, eyes squeezed shut, as Erik languidly fucked his tongue in and out. The sensation was so peculiar, so overwhelming, that Charles felt like he couldn't just lie back and take it. He had to _do_ something: grip Erik's hair, or the sheets, or his own arousal until he came, bursting out over his stomach, the top of Erik's head, _everywhere_.

But when Charles reached down to grip Erik's hair in his hands, Erik just batted them away. And when Charles reached for his own arousal, Erik growled and hoisted Charles' hips up higher, thrusting his tongue in deeper. Charles found himself so jostled and beyond reason that his hands finally just dropped to the sheets, squeezing the soft fabric uselessly, unable to do a thing to alleviate the growing pressure in his groin. He didn't know if he wanted to increase or decrease the stroke of Erik's tongues: to tell him to hurry up, make him come  _now now now_ ; or if he needed Erik to stop, to pull away, because it was just too much, just to strange and different and  _bloody fucking hell-_

Charles came explosively, tendons straining, pressing the back of his head into the mattress until he was sure his neck would snap. Erik continued to fuck his tongue steadily in and out of Charles until he was sobbing, begging Erik to stop, to please, _can't, no more, can't._

For a long, silent, _mindless_ minute, Charles stared at the ceiling, not seeing it at all. Erik's groan, broken and sated, drew Charles from his reverie. He lifted his head blearily, as if rousing from a deep slumber. Erik's hand was between his legs, mouth open as a last trickle of seed spilled over his fingers, dripping onto the sheets where he failed to catch it.

“Oh,” Charles breathed.

Erik's look was _much_ too smug for Charles' liking, but considering the man continued to top his increasingly mind-blowing orgasms again and again, Charles might grant him the smugness. Charles fell back against the sheets, hand drifting to rub lazily at his come-covered stomach. Just until the afterglow wore off, at least.

There was the sound of a match being struck, the flare of a flame, the light smell of sulfur in the room. The mattress shifted as Erik crawled back up it, coming to rest at Charles' side with a cigarette between his lips. He took a long drag, eyes flickering over Charles' face in utter self-satisfaction. As he exhaled from his first drag, he smirked. “Surprised?”

Completely unable to muster even the most kittenish of glares, Charles settled for plucking the cigarette from Erik's fingers and taking a long drag. Erik just watched, amused, before Charles passed the cigarette back to him. “You're a cheater,” he accused, voice rough from smoke and orgasm. 

Erik raised his eyebrows as he took another drag. “Oh?”

Sidling closer to Erik, Charles placed a hand on his chest. “You purposefully thought all the things you weren't going to do, so I wouldn't know what you were up to.”

“You know,” Erik mused, “some might consider reading your lover's mind in the midst of intercourse to find out what he'll do next as cheating.”

Charles' lips quirked as his eyes dropped down to Erik's, where they pursed around the cigarette in another long drag. “Well.” Charles grinned. “Semantics.” 

When Erik held the cigarette out to Charles for another drag, he just shook his head before rolling on his back. “What in the hell  _was_ that, anyway?”

“Picked it up in Belgium,” Erik confessed. “Some... er...” Erik murmured under his breath for a moment, and Charles waited, listening with mild curiosity to the way the harsh consonants of German passed over his lips. “A very feminine young man,” he finally settled with.

“Poof,” Charles supplied. “Well, I suppose most would call us poofs after that. Fairy? I get your meaning, as it is.” Charles quirked an eyebrow. “Belgium, huh? Good show. Looks like the Belgians are good for something after all. I'll have to write the king and thank him for his country's enterprising youth.”

Erik's growl was Charles' only warning before he found the man on top of him, cigarette flicked away before Erik grabbed Charles' hands and pinned them above his head. “You're not allowed to be so damned witty after  _that_ ,” he grumbled.

Charles' eyes widened, mouth parting in a soft gasp as Erik bent down and started attacking his neck. “Oh, well...” Erik was never afraid to use his teeth, Charles found, which was causing Charles to squirm and moan piteously beneath the skillful assault. “I... suppose... you could try again?”

The look Erik gave Charles was almost vicious, causing Charles' stomach to churn even as Erik manhandled him and flipped him onto his stomach. As Erik's teeth and tongue and lips started to trace a line down Charles' spine, he shivered. Then Erik's tongue lapped at the dip of Charles' spine, and he gave himself over to Erik. 

 


End file.
